


Midnight Whispers

by justabrain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justabrain/pseuds/justabrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve helps Wanda through her brother's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Whispers

Steve groggily opened his eyes and looked over at the clock. 2:54 am. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at it again to make sure he hadn’t misread it, but it still said it was just before 3 in the morning. With a sigh, he rolled over, vaguely wondering what had woken him up. He was just about to drift off again, when he heard a muffled noise coming from a room nearby. Deciding to investigate, he sat up and stepped onto the cool floor. Quietly he opened the door to the hallway, where he paused for a moment, listening. Wanda’s room. A few strides through the near-total darkness brought his hand to the door of her room. He knocked softly, but there was no reply. After debating for a moment whether to enter or go back to bed, the noise came again, this time unmistakable. A sob. 

“Wanda?” he asked quietly.

Still no answer.

Taking a breath, he opened the door to a sparsely decorated room, dimly lit by a glowing clock, and a figure huddled under the blankets of the bed. “Wanda?” he repeated.

“No.”

Quickly, he ran through what to say in his head. _Well, good night_ _then_. No, she obviously needed someone with her right now. _Are you ok?_ Of course she wasn’t. _What can I do to help?_ Almost certainly nothing. He sighed and let the door swing mostly shut behind him. Crossing towards the bed, he grabbed the chair from beside the desk, bare, save the computer Tony had built in, and turned it towards the bed. Cautiously, Steve sat, watching the girl on the bed. 

“I, uh… I know what it’s like. Losing someone that close to you.”

Silence. If not for the quaking of the blanket over her shoulders, he might have thought she was asleep.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “In the war, I—”

Suddenly a bright red flash of energy filled the room, knocking him off the chair and hitting his head on the edge of the desk. A moment later, the room dimmed again. With a wince, Steve pushed himself up. As his night vision returned, he surveyed the room. The blanket was now crumpled in a heap at the base of the far wall, the clock had fallen down onto the dresser, and the computer had a crack in it. 

A stifled sob drew his attention back to the bed, where Wanda still lay, quivering, curled in the fetal position, facing him, but eyes wrenched shut. Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but didn’t pull away. 

“Shh…” He stroked her shoulder.

Eventually, she fell asleep.

 

——

 

“That’s a nice looking goose egg you’ve got on the side of your head there, Cap,” Tony said as he glanced at Steve on his way to the coffee pot the next morning. “Where’d you get it?”

Wanda looked up from her cereal and glanced uneasily at Steve. 

“I tripped and fell on my run this morning,” he replied smoothly, cracking two eggs into a bowl. “I’ll be fine.”

“Getting clumsy in your old age?”

Steve half smiled as he whisked the eggs. “Something like that.”

The kitchen fell quiet again, other than the gurgling of the coffee as Tony poured it into his mug. Picking up the now-warm ceramic, Tony paused and glanced towards Wanda. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

A gentle clink drew Steve’s attention to the center of the kitchen, as Wanda set her spoon down on the cool glass tabletop. “Why did you lie?”

The smell of coffee slowly dissipated. “I thought you might appreciate not having the whole complex know what happened last night.” He took some whole-grain bread out of the pantry.

“That I lost control like that you mean. You think they would be afraid of me.” She paused. “Are _you_ afraid of me?”

He hesitated, bread hovering over the toaster. Then, letting out a breath of air and letting the bread fall into the toaster, “No, I’m not. You just… need more training, that’s all. More time to refine your abilities.”

Wanda huffed into her cereal. “I don’t believe you.”

Pouring the eggs into a hot frying pan, Steve shrugged. “That’s the nice thing about things that are true. It doesn’t matter whether you believe them or not. They’re still true.”

The kitchen was quiet, save the eggs cooking. Steve glanced up from stirring them to drink some of the orange juice he had poured himself, and saw Wanda silently levitating her spoon about six inches off of the table. He watched her for a few minutes, transfixed by the tendrils of red smoke weaving between her fingers, reaching out to the spoon, curling around the reflective silver handle, and gently making their way back to her, swirling back together with the rest.

The loud _tchunk_ of the toaster practically echoed through the kitchen and was quickly followed by Wanda’s spoon clattering to the table. Steve, who had looked turned to see if the toast was done, immediately looked back at her. “Are you ok?”

She took a breath and nodded, but didn’t look up. Steve noticed her hands trembling, but said nothing. Quickly, he took a plate down from the cupboard, before buttering his toast and setting it on top. He unceremoniously dumped the eggs directly from the pan to the plate, half covering the toast. Grabbing a fork and his half-empty glass of orange juice, he sat around the corner of the table from Wanda.

They ate in silence for a while, Wanda picking at her now-soggy cereal. 

 

——

 

_Bucky grabbed Steve’s shield, shooting at the soldier at the other end of the train car. A flash of blue, and Bucky flew out the open door. Steve raced forward and hurtled his shield at whoever had hurt him, hurt Bucky, made him loose Bucky. He raced to the door and reached out to where Bucky was dangling from a pipe._

_“Bucky!” He started climbing towards him. “Hang on! Take my hand! I’ll save you!”_

_Bucky’s expression contorted from terrified into a sneer. “No, you won’t.”_

_“No!” he yelled over the roaring wind._

_“You can’t save me. You can’t save anyone,” Bucky sneered, but it wasn’t Bucky anymore, it was Peggy, and her eyes were hard as she stared at him accusingly._

_“You said we’d have another dance. You lied,” she spat. “And you left and now I can’t even remember you well enough to realize what you’ve done.”_

_“You could have saved me,” Peggy said, but now it was Howard. “Your precious_ Bucky _. He killed me and_ you _could have stopped him. Tony will hate you when he learns.”_

_Bucky again, but this time metal encased his left arm, and long, stringy hair whipped around in the rushing wind. He leaned forward. “You should have fallen, not me,” he hissed. Suddenly his right arm was grabbing Steve, cold metal even through his uniform, and pulled him off of the train, dropping him thousands of feet, falling, falling, fall—_  

Steve jerked awake in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs. He wasn’t falling. He pressed his hands flat against the bed to steady himself, then listened for a moment. Soon the noise that had woken him last night came, same as before. Slowly, he stood and walked over to Wanda’s room.

He knocked. “Wanda? It’s Steve again.” 

For a second, there was no response. Then, a quiet, almost indistinguishable “Come in.”

Slowly, he opened the door. The computer was still cracked, but otherwise all was calm. Wanda lay curled up on the bed, shoulders shaking. The hardwood floor was cool under Steve’s feet as he made his way to the chair that still lay toppled on the floor. The chair creaked as Steve sat, undermining his attempts to be quiet. Then, silence again filled the room, broken only by periodic sniffles from the bed.

“Wanda? What was he like?”

She froze. Then after a second, she turned to face him. “What?” she asked, her voice strained.

“Your brother. What was he like? I didn’t really get to know him before, with fighting Ultron and everything. But I’d like to know now. What was he like?”

Wanda slowly pushed herself to be sitting up, hugging her knees. “He was… the best. Everything you could want in a brother. When—” She took a steadying breath. “When our parents died, he took care of me. Even though he was only twelve minutes older, he insisted on being the one to put himself out there to find a job, to put himself in danger. He was always so protective of me, even after we got our powers. He always had a very big heart.” She paused and smiled sadly. “When we were children, he would always find injured animals and bring them home and try to help them. Until our parents found them and made him put them outside again.” She stopped to wipe a stray tear away. 

Grabbing the box of tissues that sat on Wanda’s desk, Steve reached over and handed her one. She smiled in thanks and continued. “Mother would always be in awe of how hungry Pietro would be at dinnertime. She didn’t know that every day, I saw him give his lunch to people who needed it more than he did.” She fell quiet.

“I wish I could have known him better,” Steve said softly, watching her. Wanda nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I uh, I’m not big on hugs, but do you want one? This is obviously really hard for you.”

Wanda looked at him for a moment and gave a watery smile. “That would be nice.”

Smiling gently back, Steve shifted to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her. After a second, she relaxed and leaned into him. Gradually, he felt her breathing slow and even. He gently lowered her to be laying down again. Standing, he pulled the sheets back over her and quietly made his way back to his room.

 

——

 

“Here,” Steve said as he walked into the room and held a small device out to Wanda. She turned away from the television to look at him, and saw him raise his eyebrows. “You know, watching too much tv is bad for you. Didn’t Nat lend you a book to read?”

She shrugged and muted the screen. “It was not very interesting.”

“Careful,” Steve warned with a smile, “don’t let Nat hear that; she might get offended.”

Hesitantly, Wanda smiled back, then shifted her gaze back down to the device still in Steve’s hand. “What is that?”

“A, uh, pager. Sort of. I have one too, it’s by my bed. So if you need something in the middle of the night and I’m not already there…” He offered it to her, and she took it, placing it on the desk.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “So, what are you watching?” 

Wanda looked back at the screen, where a man with messy blond hair was yelling at a young man in a white uniform, a plate of food on a podium between them. “I’m… not quite sure.” 

Steve half smiled. “We can be confused together then. May I?”

Nodding, Wanda moved over on the bed, and Steve sat as Wanda unmuted the television.

 

——

 

It became a routine. Most nights, or more accurately early mornings, Steve would either wake up of his own accord or be woken by the buzzing of the pager. Many nights would be uneventful, quiet apart from crying and whispered conversation. Some nights, however, it would be a bit harder.

 

——

 

“Wanda?” Steve said softly, opening the door. As he entered, the first thing he noticed was the energy crackling in the air. The second was the dull red, pulsing glow coming from the bed. “Wanda, are you alright?” he repeated as he cautiously approached. 

She didn’t reply from where she lay under the covers. As Steve looked closer, he saw whisps of scarlet darting out before fading back, having accomplished nothing other than mess up the ends of Wanda’s hair lying on the pillow. With a whimper, Wanda started shaking her head.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m right here,” Steve reassured, stepping forward and setting his left hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly Wanda lashed out, hitting his arm with a burst of red. Pain seared through his shoulder, but Steve ignored it as a thought occurred to him. She was asleep. 

Steve swore. Gritting his teeth, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Wanda, wake up!” he said, as her arms flailed, trying to throw him off. “Wanda!” he repeated, shaking her. Gradually, the flailing slowed and stopped, and Wanda blinked awake. 

“What…”

Steve let out a breath of air and released her, sitting back in the chair with a wince. “You were dreaming.”

She sat up. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

Waving his hand, he stopped her. “I’m fine, don’t worry. What about you? Are _you_ alright?” Looking away, Wanda didn’t answer. “What was it?” he asked gently.

She was quiet before answering. “It was the battle. I was fighting off Ultron’s robots, but I could see Pietro right in front of me and a robot about to shoot him. But I couldn’t block the bullets. I tried, but they went right through. I didn’t even slow them down. And he lay there just… looking at me. And I couldn’t go to him. There were too many robots and they wouldn’t let me through and…” She took a shaky breath as tears flooded her eyes. 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s not your fault.” He moved so he was sitting on the side of the bed.

“I could have saved him.” She let out a sob. “I shouldn’t have let him go. I could have saved him and I _didn’t_.” 

Wordlessly, Steve leaned forward and enveloped her in a hug. Wanda relaxed into him, resting her head on his chest.

“You couldn’t have known that was going to happen. I know it’s hard, believe me. But you can get through this. It wasn’t your fault.” Wanda shook her head but didn’t pull away. “It’s ok, it wasn’t your fault…” 

 

——

 

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“The first night that you heard me. You said that you knew what it was like losing someone close to you. What happened?”

Steve paused. “His name was — _is_ Bucky. We were best friends, grew up together. So when he joined the army, I did everything I could to follow him.” He studied the blanket on Wanda’s bed for a moment. “We were on a train over a ravine fighting some enemy soldiers. He fell through the door and when I got there he was holding onto a metal rod, but—” Steve sighed heavily. “I didn’t get there in time. I should have been able to reach him, but then it broke and he fell.” He ran his fingers along the precise stitching, noticing it for the first time. “Hydra found him. He was alive, barely, somehow, and they brainwashed him. Made him do horrible things. I… If I had saved him, all those people, they’d still…” He trailed off, setting his jaw.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Steve shook his head and abruptly stood. “I need some air.” 

Wanda watched as he walked out of the room. Then, quickly, she got up, pulled on slippers and a sweatshirt, and followed. After a few minute’s search, she found him sitting on the roof, looking out at the trees surrounding the back of the compound. She slowly approached, not quite shivering in the cool summer night.

“Sometimes, if Bucky’s parents were arguing and he couldn’t sleep, he’d come over and we’d go up to the roof of the apartment building and look up at the stars. There wasn't nearly so much other light back then." Steve half smiled. "Looked kinda like this actually." 

Wanda gingerly sat next to him and searched the sky. "Pietro's favorite was... That one," she said, pointing.

Steve looked up. ”Cygnus. The swan.”

"He liked that it looked like it was going fast,” she said with a smile. “He would laugh to know it's a swan in English." She glanced at Steve out of the corner of her eye. "Did Bucky have a favorite?"

"Yeah, Cassiopeia, or as he called it, 'The Great W'," he answered with a small laugh. "He said he liked it because it was so easy to see. I always preferred Orion."

After a pause, "It fits you. I like the big spoon with the North Star."

Steve nodded. "We call it the Big Dipper. A lot of people have used it in the past to find their way. Maybe it'll help you find yours."

"Maybe it'll help both of us."


End file.
